Old Black Joe

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay, Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away, Gone from the earth to a better land I know, I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

Chorus: I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low, I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe".

why do I weep, when my heart should feel no pain, Why do I sigh that my friends come not again. Grieving for forms now departed long ago. I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"

Where are the hearts once so happy and so free? The children so dear that I held upon my knee Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go, I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"